


Mistletoe

by gala_apples



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Drunkenness, M/M, Mistletoe, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-11
Updated: 2012-06-11
Packaged: 2017-11-07 12:16:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/431082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikey is drunk and makes a mistake he doesn't realise he's making.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistletoe

It all starts three days before Christmas. The deal Mikey wheedled from his parents, with additional help from Gerard over the phone, is simple. Mikey goes to the School of Visual Arts to visit for three days. They’ve agreed he’s to ‘check out the atmosphere’ which is a duo-code for ‘Mom wants Mikey to get into a good college’ and ‘Mikey wants to see what parties Gerard has been going to’. Early -code for around noon- on Christmas Eve they come home, and then Gerard stays a week before going back to school.

So far Mikey likes it. It’s nothing like what he’ll have, no matter if he goes to a state school or one further away. There’s no first year undeclared major let’s fuck around and have fun attitude. Everyone here knows what they want, and every person he’s met is intense about their particular want. But they’re resolved in a way that fits Gerard. If Mikey hadn’t already guessed from the lilt in his brother’s voice when they talk on the phone, or the rambling emails about SVA being perfect, he knew the moment he walked into Gerard’s dorm and saw the way he smiled.

Mikey has flashes where it seems to fit him too. Everyone is focused with hair dye and making sure colour or lack thereof is riddled through their outfit, whatever makes the best statement. Mikey knows how to make the perfect un-statement with a ratty band shirt. Some are so intent on making sure the audience knows what they mean by a piece that they forget to eat or bathe. Mikey can’t count the number of times he’s just sprayed another layer of hair spray to make it look right instead of washing his hair and combing it straight.

Best of all, they care about what music fits the best in the background when working. There’s less Adderol to stay up all night writing a perfect essay and more Metallica for designing a rich graphic, or Blur for a series of sketches. Mikey’s already given out a dozen local Jersey band recommendations. Giving an artist with an actual beret on a list of bands to download makes Mikey feel intelligent; fucking helpful and really cool. He can’t draw, and he doesn’t understand how someone could spend four years on typography. But he wishes he could, so he’d have a reason to come back.

So maybe he drinks a little when Gerard takes him to one of the holiday parties. It’s spread over a few rooms in the hall, all the doors wide open, different genres of music coming from each room. It’s nothing like sneaking vodka in a flask somewhere, that he’s had more than enough experience with. That can get pretty old, although at least being the one with the bottle gathers the attention of the similarly under-aged people around him. This is different. It’s all mixed drinks, blues and reds and greens as bright as the art posters on the girl’s wall -he thinks her name is Venezuela, but he’s not sure- or the dyed hair on the passionate people’s heads. Not all of them taste good, but the dredded girl keeps passing them out and Mikey doesn’t want to refuse her liquid works of art. He takes each one she gives him.

The next time someone shoves something in his hand he just takes it. It takes him a second of looking at it -hell, it takes his eyes a second just to focus enough to look at it- before seeing it for what it is. It’s a plant. Judging by the season, and the way someone is telling him to ‘go for it’, Mikey realises it has to be mistletoe. Which is a problem. Mikey doesn’t know anyone in the room. People that just watched him but didn’t interact might think that was fine, that he was a kissing slut. They’d be wrong. He kisses multiple people on the sidelines of the moshpits, that’s true. But he knows them because they all go to the same shows. It’s like a handshake, or a hug hello, but with tongues. He doesn’t want to kiss someone he doesn’t know, and everyone here is a stranger.

Looking for safety he finds the shade of red that is Gerard’s new hair -he can’t wait to see Mom’s reaction, though she shouldn’t really take offense, considering her bleach job- and makes his way over. Following the laws of mistletoe he interrupts Gee mid-sentence to put a peck on his cheek. It’s no worse than an aunt might do. Will do, when everyone comes over Christmas day.

“No, no, that’s not a kiss. Try again. Go for realism.” Mikey doesn’t know if the guy doesn’t know they’re brothers, doesn’t know if he knows and doesn’t believe in taboos because he’s artsy. But Mikey knows this kind of guy, knows him well. He won’t shut up until he gets what he wants, there are a hundred of them in every scene. Just like he doesn’t want to argue electronica, he would rather not be harassed for the entire night.

With no other choice, Mikey gives Gerard a real kiss. Tongue and teeth and lips, a real kiss like there’s people screaming and flavoured coffee and wristbanded hands in the background. When Gerard finally pushes him away he doesn’t get ‘what the fuck’ in the tone of ‘you ate all the popcorn’ or ‘I am not a goddamn footrest, put your damn feet on the coffee table’ like he expects. Instead Gerard bolts.

Mikey takes a stunned second before chasing after, already aware that he’s screwed. He doesn’t know the layout of SVA at all, he’ll never be able to find Gerard if he’s already turned a corner. Lucky for him, Gerard is only a few doors down the hallway, leaning against the wall and hyperventilating.

“Gee!” he calls, wanting to make sure Gerard doesn’t run somewhere that Mikey can’t get him. The moment his voice rings out Gerard bends over and vomits, even though Mikey’s the one drunk enough to need to rest an elbow against the wall so he doesn’t fall over.

“Go away Mikey,” Gerard croaks, throat ruined from the puke that’s in a pile at his feet.

“I. What? I’m sorry, it was just a-”

“Go back to the party. And never, ever bring this up. Not ever again, okay Mikey? Not ever.”

He doesn’t understand. He’s drunk and the world is swaying and his tongue tastes like rum, even though he didn’t drink any rum. Gerard is only a few feet down the hallway, but Mikey feels like if he tried to walk over and talk to him it would only make Gerard worse, and he’s already puked. So he does the only thing he can do. He murmurs ‘okay’, and walks back through the door frame lit with Christmas lights. He’ll drink until he forgets the entire night, because that’s what his brother needs from him.


End file.
